Creamy or Crunchy
by element90
Summary: Which does Keely prefer?


I've been told, by someone I will not call by name, that my one-shots need to be shorter. So...I had to try really hard to do that since I usually carry on and on and on...well, anyone who has read my fics can testify to that.

Anyway, assuming anyone cares to know, my writing ability (and I use that term loosely) hasn't returned, but I have this compulsive need to write which I must obey else my eye won't stop twitching. Heh. I guess I'll wait and see if it comes back before tackling another long story. Don't want to screw up another one and go and 'kill a Pheely illusion' again. Isn't that right, much-appreciated-glad-to-have-back-rambling-reviewer?

Creamy or Crunchy

At H.G Wells, lunchtime is the best time to enjoy a break from stuffy classrooms, to replenish your energy, if you bring your own food, to be among friends, to laugh and joke with them, and to sneak some much needed quality time with your significant other.

And, sometimes, it can be an awakening, a real eye-opener, and ultimately, a blessing.

"What is this stuff?"

Phil leans closer to Keely to inspect the contents of her tray. "Hmm..."

Via jabs her slab of perfectly square processed meat with her fork. "Forget identifying it," she says in disgust as she pushes her tray aside. "Whatever it is, I don't believe it is edible."

"Unless you want to make an unplanned trip to the emergency room for a stomach pumping," Phil says with a shrug.

Keely groans and pushes her tray aside as well while he digs into his backpack.

"Maybe this'll help."

She eagerly takes the offering with a bright smile of appreciation, but Via frowns. "Why doesn't someone give me a candy bar?"

Owen plops down unceremoniously next to her. "'Cause you don't _have _a someone." He sighs heavily. "Still workin' on that."

She narrows her eyes at him, but the message sent is lost somewhere between him dumping out the contents of his brown-bag lunch and trying to twist the cap off his soda.

He grunts and she laughs.

"What?" he asks as the seal finally breaks. "These things are tougher than they look."

Phil furrows his brow. "That's what you're having for lunch?"

He grins boyishly and grabs up the jar of peanut butter. "Ya got it, Differ."

"Where's your bread?" Keely asks curiously. "Or your crackers? Or celery? Apple slices?"

"Don't need 'em," he replies as he sticks a finger into the jar and then into his mouth.

"Oh..ugh." Keely looks down at her candy bar which she was enjoying immensely, but now not so much. She covers the remains with the wrapper and sets it aside.

Via rolls her eyes. "Of course."

He grins again and she quickly looks away from the sight of the peanut butter hanging onto his lip. Phil chuckles, and Keely swats his knee under the table. He feigns ignorance, adorably so, and she can't help but smile at him.

But she is distracted as she catches a glimpse in her peripheral vision of something that has recently become an interest. Turning her head slightly, she sees him, and out of unconscious, involuntary response, the butterflies take flight.

He sits a few tables away with a group of friends. She smiles to herself. He's all ready made friends. He has only been a student here for a week, and he is all ready quite popular. A slender girl positions herself at his side, closely at his side, and her smile fades. Quite popular with the female population too.

She turns away from them, and her gaze distractedly comes to rest upon the jar of peanut butter sitting on the table.

Peanut butter. Growing up, she always had a tough time deciding which kind of peanut butter she should tell her mom to buy. Creamy or crunchy? She's had a taste of both, yet she's still not sure which she likes more.

Peanut butter. A childhood favorite snack with so many memories attached to it. It's simple and pure and innocent, just like childhood. But she's not a child anymore, and today, it takes on a whole new meaning as she glances back nonchalantly to the guy sitting across the way with his mysterious smirk and penetrating eyes. Against her will, a light blush creeps into her cheeks, but, fortunately, it fades quickly.

He's definitely crunchy.

She glances back at the boy next to her, the one with his warm hand resting upon her thigh. Its weight is a comforting presence. The sunlight bounces off his dark features, shines in his thick hair, reflects in his soft eyes, and brightens his amazing smile. He laughs and speaks to their friends, and his voice is so...

Smooth.

She smiles. He is definitely creamy.

And creamy came first. Creamy has been around much longer. It's familiar and predictable. It's easy-going and well-known.

But then there is him, and crunchy is new, different, unexplored and exciting. The tiny chunks of nuts inside are like surprises. The 'how many' and 'how chunky' are questions begging to be researched. And with each scoop, the questions are uniquely answered.

However, because it lacks the nutty chunks, creamy is better for spreading, much easier for spreading.

She watches him as he glances over at her and winks. Faking her understanding of the latest joke on Owen, having to fake it since she is not giving her friends' lively conversation any attention, she nods her head. For the briefest moment, his eyes stay locked on hers, but then he turns away, back to the person responsible for the wadded up brown paper sack that has just been thrown at his head.

He knew she was clueless in that moment. He always knows. She smiles again. Creamy certainly does spread very easily. It doesn't break the bread. It leaves the jar just as smooth as it was before the lid was opened.

And while the chunky pieces are textured-surprises, they are just additions to something that all ready consists of those additions. Leave crunchy out in the hot sun too long and the butter melts away, leaving only the peanuts. Nothing but surprises are left, and that says a lot about what crunchy is really made of.

And then, the realization comes. The thing that might seem ordinary and plain is really the more substantial of the two. The little peanut granules are just added for the sake of attraction. Look at this, here is something new and different, but it's really nothing more than creamy has always been. And always will be.

And though creamy sticks to the palate, it is savored longer that way. Besides, crunchy is noisy and the nuts stick into teeth and must be pried out with force.

As she glances over at him again, as two more girls join his table, ridiculously fawning over him, she suppresses a chuckle. More and more people are leaning towards crunchy these days anyway. More and more people with questionable reputations are in favor of crunchy.

She turns her attention back to the boy at her side.

The touch of his hand on her leg, its comfort and reassurance, that's a best friend she is happy to have. But the shiver it provokes, its thrill and tingle, that's a love she can't live without. Nor would she want to.

He turns to her. His soft smile and the sunlight dancing in his eyes, the silent message constantly being sent directly from his heart to hers...

_That _is creamy peanut butter.

And the childhood dilemma is resolved forever.

"I don't particularly care for either kind of peanut butter," Via says to Owen.

"You don't like peanut butter?" He scoffs. "That's like...un-American or somethin'."

She watches him expectantly for a few seconds before remembering who she is talking to. "Or something," she mumbles.

Phil and Keely laugh, and Owen furrows his brow. "What?"

Keely glances over at Via, "So you really don't like peanut butter? At all?"

She shakes her head. "I could never get over the smell."

Owen's arm makes a sudden move in her direction, but he quickly retracts. "Uhh..guess I shouldn't hold my finger under your nose then, huh?"

"You should_ never _do that. Ever."

He clicks his tongue and slowly nods his head before returning his finger to his jar.

Phil turns to his girlfriend. "So, Keel, which do you pref--"

"Creamy!"

Owen's finger pauses midway to his mouth and Via raises her eyebrows.

"Are you sure about that, Keel?" Phil asks with a fair amount of sarcasm laced in his voice as he playfully taps his fingers against her leg.

"Um...yeah," She laughs nervously. "I just really..." She turns to Phil and nods firmly. "Love creamy."

He smiles as her hand finds his.


End file.
